


42. Triangle

by smiledarnyou



Series: Big Damn Table [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Hiding things, M/M, Reverse psychology, absolute zero angst here kiddos, bribery with snacks, hello internet, occasional smut, photo wars, physical affection, public pranking, sap in general, thanks dan for your oversharing during vidcon, this goes out to you, twitter polls, will tag appropiately for each chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 02:38:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10350564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smiledarnyou/pseuds/smiledarnyou
Summary: 10 Ways to Win an Argument with a Significant Other.Or, better yet, 10 things Dan and Phil have probably (not) done during a domestic spat. Inspired by real couples and real stories.1. Play Hide and Seek with some of your significant other's most precious belongings before a long trip.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Mentions of alcohol and food in this particular one shot

Dan used to be the absolute worst during Phil's absence, he could admit. He would put his energy into work: filming, editing, preparing for their radio show, attending YouTube Space events in town. Yet when all was said and done, it still left a heavy silence in the apartment, one he truly could never avoid. No matter the distractions in comfort with friends or family, or games and Netflix, he always still felt alone. Even the occasional Skype calls Phil could sneak into his trip and the text messages could never fill those gaps. 

“You know what they say,” Phil had teased one night, terrible Florida internet connection breaking up his chuckle. “‘Distance makes the heart grow fonder.’” As if the night before, Phil had never called him, tearfully admitting flying sucked without Dan being there. 

Yet at some point over the course of their eight years together, the wallowing and suffering ended, the negative (seemingly never-ending) existential crisis being replaced with peace and comfort. Somewhere along the line of reading replies to his forlorn tweets, seeing the teasing from others about how deep Dan was, telling him to phone a friend, film something or just cuddle a pillow with a cutout of Phil’s face attached to it (in the earlier stage of their relationship, the last option felt more feasible), Dan was able to find other means. 

The marathons of monologing his day without Phil routine, tumblr queues and (truthfully) god awful shitposts on Twitter and Instagram, kept a lighthearted mood in their apartment and in their little community. Phil would always return, he knew. They knew. A couple of days or a week without Phil stopped feeling like a thorn in his side, and more of a therapeutic vacation. Dan was able to travel, write and think on his own, learning to appreciate his own thoughts and grow self-confidence. 

Phil could sense Dan was maturing with their relationship, could see the soft glow on Dan’s face even when they were Skyping hours away from each other. Dan was happy, whether Phil was right by his side or across the world. As long as Phil was safe, he was content. 

However, the teasing never ceased. Whether it was from fans or from Phil, there was always the anticipation that Dan would put on a tearjerker movie, and grab a carton of dairy free ice cream and eat his sadness away. It would frustrate others, with the constant teasing of the past version of themselves, but Dan would embrace it.

And, sometimes, use it to his advantage. 

See. Phil was sneaky about his loneliness. He was careful about showing any possible signs of sadness after a particular radio show and gifs posted everywhere of close-ups of Phil wiping away tears. Phil, just like Dan, was able to find distractions with his tv show box sets and rounds of Final Fantasy, immersing himself in his own world without him. Yet still, the fans barely knew of their Skype calls or text messages of “xx miss you <3” and “pls come back to me soon ]:” or the pouncing hugs Dan would be greeted with when he walked through their apartment’s door. Dan never teased him, because it felt so damn good to be wanted and missed and (sadistically enough) cried over. 

Yet even despite Phil’s moments of genuine loneliness, he still continued to poke fun at Dan, teasing him over Skype one night after a tumblr queue that was rather too sad and gray for his own good. _It’s only for a day, y’know. 24 hours shouldn’t be this torturous._

Dan decided a bit of revenge was good enough for the next trip round. 

See, after one long night of sorting through his clothes, ensuring his electronics were charged and packed for a week long family trip to Sri Lanka, the gaming video had been filmed in its entirety, and a plan set in motion, he walked into the kitchen. He was welcomed with the smells of vegan stir fry and the crackles of hot coconut oil, as well as the chaos of open cabinets and a disaster of a counter space. Phil looked up from the pan of diced tofu with a grin. “I think I’ve got it this time.” 

Dan walked over with a heavy sigh, resting his chin on Phil’s shoulder to peek at the pan. “It’s actually solid tofu this time? Congratulations. Ten plus points for you.” 

“I think I got them confused with tofu scramble the last time.” Phil lowered the heat on the tofu and vegetables and took a peek at the rice pot, poking at the grain with a fork. 

“Mmhm. Right.” His eyes moved back to the counter. The cutting board was left there, juices from the onions, peppers and aubergine seeping through to the space. Spices dusted the gray paint, measuring spoons laid sticky on the counter. Messy bowls used to mix sauces were left right by the sink, precariously close from dropping right then and there. The coconut oil was left open by the stove, the side exposed to the pan beginning to melt by the heat. Phil’s cooking apron somehow remained unstained. Dan’s eye twitched a bit and he tucked his face into Phil’s neck. “How you manage to make a mess of the kitchen, and not your apron is a complete mystery to me.” 

Dan lifted his head to see Phil looking around the kitchen, his eyes lingering on his messy workspace and open cabinets. “Oop.” Phil looked back to the stove, not a hint of embarrassment on his features, and not an apology on his lips. “It’ll be clean before you know it.” 

Shameless. He was absolutely shameless. Five years, and the man still left the cabinets open. He was just going to rip the cabinet doors off at one point, and Phil was going to pay the landlord for damages. As well as the damages for the triangle sized crack left in the kitchen tile, because someone didn’t want to close the cabinet after leaving a couple dish glasses stacked too close together. “Phil. This is awful. What have I said about-”

“I know, I know. Clean as I go. But the last time I did that, I burned the rice.” As if just remembering, Phil checked the rice pot again and clicked off the burner. “Perfect timing, actually,” Phil hummed. 

“That’s because you had it on medium high, Phil.” Phil’s jovial tone and Dan’s pet peeve of open cabinets was beginning to become a dangerous mix. “I just...Phil, let me just-”

“Dan, please, it’s okay.” Phil turned from the stove, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ve got this handled. The cabinets can be open for a little bit longer, it’s not going to harm anything.” Dan scoffed at that, and Phil gave him his sweetest smile. _Prick_. “You’ve got a plane to catch tomorrow morning and we’ve got a romantic dinner to attend to.” Dan huffed a bit at Phil’s attempt of a wink and attempt of a distraction, but let Phil turn back to the stove, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his chin again to watch his handiwork. Dan’s eyes still sneaked over to the open cabinets on his right. It would be just so easy to close them himself, but really. How often did he have to close the cabinets himself? It wasn’t just a crack, it was wide open. 

“We could get to the romantic dinner much faster if this kitchen is clean,” Dan suggested lightly, his hands moving to Phil’s waist. “I can get some music and we can clean together. Cut everything in half.” His hand then gently caressed up, resting on Phil’s shoulder. He could feel Phil tense, then relax under his touch. “Then we can make up for some lost time today. A bit later. That is if you want to?” 

Phil hummed low, swaying a bit as he stirred the vegetables, the onions beginning to brown. “Maybe so, but. You watched the video to make sure everything was filmed. And you were busy packing, while I made myself comfortable on the couch.”

“An hour and a half of watching ourselves isn’t a chore. If I can’t withstand watching us back, I wouldn’t be living in this apartment.” 

“True enough.” 

Dan rolled his eyes, fighting a smile. _Cabinets, dammit_. Phil was absolutely endearing and Dan loved him to death, but even despite that, he had found a rolled up pug printed sock on the coffee table earlier in the morning and he refused to give in to his charm. Even if he was specially making veggie stir-fry, completely unasked for, just because Phil loved him. But, _cabinets_. 

While Phil had gone grocery shopping that morning to pick up the ingredients for dinner, Dan had sneaked into Phil’s bedroom and their living room, and grabbed the box sets of video games, tv shows, and movies off the shelves. He used one of his CD cases from storage and began tucking them into the empty disc slots, then put the box sets back in their respectable spots. He then hid the CD case under his bed, just in time for him to ready the office for filming while Phil walked through the door with the food. 

He bit his tongue, fighting a smile, hands both comfortably resting on Phil’s stomach, fingers lacing together to lock Phil back against him. “I had the easy part anyway. You get the fun part of trying to cover up your staring and innuendos.”

Phil snorted at that, patting Dan’s hands so he can move away to cut off the burners. “And yours. Which, looking back at it, that might only give us two minutes of usable footage.”

“Oy.” 

“What can I say, Heart Eyes Howell? Maybe you need to kick it back a notch.” 

“As soon as Love Eyes Lester can learn to keep his gaze on the screen, then I’ll see about turning it down. Until then, it’s extra editing time for the both of us.” Dan could feel the laughter before he could hear it, letting Phil peel himself away so he can untie the apron and hang it up. Dan began cleaning immediately, putting the cutting board and knife into the sink, tossing plastic wrap into the trash and wiping the counter down with a damp cloth. Phil tutted, taking the cloth away and pushing him out of the kitchen. “I can do _something_ around here to make it less of a disaster.” 

“I can say the same about your bedroom, but it’s fine here.” Dan gave him stink eye for that, knowing damn well his bedroom was _not_ a mess, especially after packing for his trip. But fine. The box sets were still left empty on the shelves, and the CD case was tucked away and hidden in a shoebox underneath his disaster of a bed. Their Netflix account password was reset and hidden in his notes on his phone. Dan fought back a smile with a roll of his eyes. 

“Can I set the table at least?” Dan asked. Phil smiled softly at that, nodding and beginning to hand him a couple set of plates, utensils, drink glasses and a paper towel roll. Phil suggested a mixed drink or a glass of wine, but Dan let it slide. He still had an early morning ahead, and the risk of alcohol mixing with sleep was too grave of a mistake. He grabbed a bottle of Fanta orange instead, and began setting the table as promised. 

Even despite the plan coming together, there was still a bit of guilt sitting in the bottom of his stomach as Phil continued to sap him up. He even lit a candle in the center of the table, hooked up his phone to play Dan’s Spotify playlists, and added rice or veg to Dan’s plate if it was looking a little empty, poured a bit more drink if it dared to go below half full. He was being incredibly sweet and gracious, as he always was. There was doubt settling in, making Dan want to jump off the chair and organize the DVDs back in order, reset the Netflix password back to normal, and give Phil the romantic night he deserved. 

But no. _Cabinets_.

They continued to eat dinner, finding surprise and amusement that Phil was able to pull off a vegan meal with no injuries to himself or the food. Phil finally gave in to Dan, letting him clean the kitchen with him (only after Dan promised a certain reward if Phil allowed it), bumping shoulders and hips, humming to whatever song Dan had playing on the phone. After everything was scrubbed top to bottom, Phil rushed Dan to the shower to prep his bedroom for Dan’s night and Dan took the quickest shower in his lifetime. Suitcase and carry-on ready to grab by the front door, and alarm set, Dan rewarded him properly as promised.

Fair was fair.

__________________________________________________________

Dan woke to the loud thrumming of the alarm, quickly slapping at his phone in a futile attempt to shut it off. He flipped onto his back, pressing his thumb against the home button, his other hand reaching out to rest on Phil’s head. He only found himself patting a pillow, and realized Phil had left the bed. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he stretched, adjusting to the darkness in the room. The only bit of light was from the crack of Phil’s bedroom door. He began to hear the boiling of the kettle and crackles of cooking oil. As he began to notice other senses, he could smell the uncooked, sweetened pancake batter and Phil’s instant coffee. He groaned, rolling over to hide his face in the pillow. 

Phil woke up before the alarm at three in the morning, just to make him breakfast. He was evil incarnate. 

Dan rolled out of bed, wincing a bit at the tenderness of his lower back as he bent down to pick a pair of boxers off the floor, and shuffled his way to the kitchen. 

Phil looked up from his phone, leaning against the counter top. He looked a mess with a suspicious trace of syrup on the corner of his mouth, his wild bed hair and crooked glasses. He never bothered to change, wearing boxers and an apron, nothing more. Yet with that grin that split Phil’s face, his eyes bright from the coffee that leaned dangerously on the edge of the counter, he was a gorgeous sight to wake up to.

Alas. The kitchen cabinets were left wide open. 

Again.

Before Dan could open his mouth, Phil pushed him out of the kitchen, telling him to get ready while he made breakfast. He sighed, rolling his eyes and walked his way to the bathroom. He plugged in the straightener, and as he waited for it to heat there was an idea that popped up in his head. An extension to his plan, if Phil allowed it. 

It involved a few post-it notes. If Phil still had the cabinets open when Dan would come into the living room to eat after getting ready, Dan would be a bit more accommodating. Phil had been really sweet after all, the night before with dinner (and post-dinner activities) and the morning with waking early, making them a full breakfast before Dan would have to head off. He was gentle and knew how to make him laugh and distract him from the typical nerves the night before a long flight. As he always was.

If the cabinets were left open, he would sneak a post-it note on the back of the door, hiding it from view. Phil would be only able to see the clue if he ever bothered to close the door by himself. If not, he would be pretty much shit out of luck, and Dan would have to ready himself for a vengeful Skype call. 

He would cut him slack this time around for sure. Only this time at least.

He straightened his hair, setting it with a generous amount of hair spray, humming to himself and laughing at the imagined scenarios in his head. Phil, opening box set after another, confused and growing in understanding and annoyance. Then cleverly thinking he can escape, attempting to log in to Netflix and finding he had the wrong password. It all sounded rather evil, but compared to him putting flour in Phil's hairdryer some years ago, this was nothing. 

He quickly shoved the rest of his hair and body care trinkets into another carry on, triple checking the straightener had cooled enough to be put back into the bad, and set everything with the rest of the bags by the front door. He heard Phil assembling everything in the living room, hearing the clinks of the forks, plates and bowls. He took a peek into the kitchen to see the counters were less of a mes than the night before, surprised to see the bowl of pancake batter placed in the sink this time around. And yet. Cabinets were still open.

24 hours, Phil had joked.

Dan gives him twelve.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Happy Birthday gift to Nikki! Happy Birthday~ sorry this is super late, but I really do hope you enjoy.
> 
> This was supposed to be a one shot story, but because I was having way too much fun with this concept, I decided to make it a ten parter :D I'm really looking forward to this mini-series, and I hope you all enjoy. Feel free to leave a comment below to let me know what you think!


End file.
